


Origin (At the End of The House at Pooh Corner)

by Ferith12



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Help, i have no idea what to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferith12/pseuds/Ferith12
Summary: Eliot's childhood, I guess





	Origin (At the End of The House at Pooh Corner)

Eliot was seven years old and he was learning to ride a pony. He went to school and was top of his class in most subjects. He read The Hobbit even though the librarian said it was too hard for him, and he read Winnie the Pooh even though it was for babies, and he cried at the end of The House at Pooh Corner. The world was big and Eliot was small and his future was opening up to him. 

 Eliot was eleven years old and he got into fights in school, because Eliot was bored and middle schoolers were awful. He worked at the barn in the afternoons and sometimes early in the morning, he ditched school and rode far out into nowhere, looking for the horizon. He read The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and the librarian knew better now than to say it was above his reading level, and he read Oliver Twist and he read Ender’s Game, and he cried at the end The House at Pooh Corner. He didn’t care that it was for babies. The world didn’t seem quite as big as it used to, and so much of life had already been explored, and Eliot was bored clear out of his mind sometimes.

Eliot was seventeen years old and he barely made passing grades in school, because he hated being inside all day and his classes were uninteresting and he couldn’t see the point of it all. He still got into fights, because people were awful and Eliot noticed that sort of thing and couldn’t let it stand, and because he had nothing better to do. He helped his dad at the store, and he loved that old place and he loved his dad, but he felt the smallness of it all closing in, cageing, strangling, until he thought he might combust, and he looked toward the horizon with something like desperation. He read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales, and any book he could get his hands on. Sometimes he went to the library and checked out the longest books he could find, just because he hated for them to end. The world was vast and magnificent and unexplored, but his town was unbearably tiny and unremarkable and his future stretched out before him like dust, and he wanted out. A week after his eighteenth birthday Eliot joined the army and headed out into the wide, wide world and didn’t look back. (He still cried at the end of the House at Pooh Corner)


End file.
